


Eyes Open

by the_moonmoth



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_moonmoth/pseuds/the_moonmoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His touch is respectful, reverent even, and it doesn't get her burning the way Fitz could with just a look, but she craves it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Open

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah idk... sorry SanSan fans, this one just came out. I kind of dreamed it. But seriously, I love this pairing and there is not enough fic for them out there, and that makes me sad dammit! Anyway, I had a stressful day, so I wrote smut. This is the way my brain is wired. Unbeta'd, concrit welcome as ever, hope you enjoy :)

His touch is respectful, reverent even, and it doesn't get her burning the way Fitz could with just a look, but she craves it anyway.

"God, Livvie," he murmurs as he kisses down the side of her neck, stubble scraping the soft skin at the joining of neck and shoulder. "Livvie." He says her name like a prayer, like the thing that got him through the hole all those years ago, and part of her can't believe, can't believe that he's waited this long, that he's  _wanted_  this long. That she's worthy. That he would ever come back into her life after everything, helping to disappear him, waiting for Fitz to dismantle B613, waiting, waiting. He became a shadow, and sometimes, at her worst, her loneliest, she pictured him there in her apartment, in  _her_  shadows, standing guard as he had once, watching over her with shuttered green eyes.

But he's back now, and this isn't her apartment, and this isn't D.C., and she isn't the Olivia Pope she once was. She was tired and hurting from all the years of burying herself in someone else until she didn't know who she was any more, and she didn't run away exactly but she doesn't see Fitz any longer, or Mellie, or Cyrus, and the others can't usually spare the time to trek all the way out here just to say hi. But Jake was disappeared, and now he's back, her shadow with the green eyes, here in her house. Here in her bedroom. Touching her slowly, gently, as though she might balk, and a wry smile breaks across her face because of course he would think about that and worry.

He's got her shirt unbuttoned now but stills his hands to let her do the same. He's warm beneath, soft skin, hard muscle, a new scar livid red on his flank and she covers it with her hand as though to hide it away, though of course she can't and the thought of it pains her. She doesn't want him to hurt any more, not for her, not for anything.

"Kiss me again," she says, looking up at him, and he smiles, such warmth in his eyes it makes her ache.

"Close your eyes."

She shakes her head. "No. My eyes stay open."

It's a challenge, and statement of intent. She knows who she's looking at, and what she wants. For the first time in ten years, she knows what she wants. She wants him to know it too -- after everything, he deserves nothing less.

"Hmm," he says, drawing her close, one hand buried in her hair while the other slides forward to cup her face, thumb tracing the line of her full lower lip. "Challenge accepted."

Her grin is smothered by the kiss, deep and sweet, and she puts her arms around his waist, hands splayed across his back, and presses herself to him like they could somehow melt together. Her bra comes loose and he drops his hands to the swell of her breasts, rising and falling faster now as her breathing comes rapidly. His thumbs on her nipples make her moan.

"That didn't take much," Jake says some moments later, drawing back.

Slowly opening her eyes from the place of bliss she had just been going to, Olivia gives him a narrow look.

"Shut up," she says pleasantly, reaching for his fly, and as her hand encircles his erection his glib mouth stutters over whatever it was he'd been about to say.

He's so hard, leaking at the tip, his body betraying the urgency his hands don't show. Looking up she meets his eyes again and there's heat there, buried but burning with shocking intensity, and from deep within she feels an answering fire, banked until now but roaring to life.

"Jake," she whispers, and he seems to know exactly what she wants, not because he knows her so well -- it's not like he ever really got the chance -- but because he's always listened so well to what she needs. And in a moment they're naked and on the bed, Jake lining himself up with her with shaking hands. And in the next moment she has her legs wrapped around that lean waist, arching her breasts into his chest, the scrape of coarse hair against sensitive nipples, hungry for the feel of his skin, flesh melting with lust, blood on fire with the way he looks at her now that they're as close as they can get. He's leaning on his forearms in a half-pushup so not to crush her, but she wants his weight, wants the feel of him pushing her into the mattress, and guides him down with a hand on the small of his back. 

Then he starts thrusting, and she gets vocal, sliding a hand between their bodies to work herself while she loses herself in his mouth.

No, it isn't the sensation of losing that she feels, but finding. Perhaps not herself, perhaps not yet, but something good, something real. Jake coming back into her life has been painful and wonderful, and as he watches her face as she comes, avid and wracked with his own pleasure, she has a feeling almost of inevitability. The same feeling she's had since she opened her door to him some time last week and just stared at him for what felt like five hours. What they have is something old, and something new, and something so strong it will guard her dreams tonight, just as Jake, holding her close, will guard her body. Just as she will guard him, all night, eyes open.


End file.
